


Broken Halos and Mistletoe

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bunker, Bunker Fic, Canon Divergent, Christmas fic, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Human!Castiel - Freeform, M/M, Mistletoe, Post Season 8, just a little though, pre season 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tradition is what they'd fought against all these years, and tradition was what brought them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Halos and Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to remind you that human Castiel here is just canon divergent after season 8, as if he caught up with Dean and Sam and nothing in season 9 happened.

Tradition was stupid, Dean had decided. Wasn't that what they had decided when they went against the order of Heaven and saved the world? Wasn't that the whole point of things: not to follow orders passed down through generations? It wasn't as though tradition did anything for any of them. It was completely pointless.

Sam just said that Dean was throwing a fit, and continued to put up the mistletoe.

"Dude, come on!" Dean said, gesturing wildly. "The only people in this house are you, me, Kev, and Cas. There aren't any chicks here."

Sam just rolled his eyes. "You and I are brothers, so we can just kiss each other on the cheek. Everyone else, I guess you'll just have to avoid this doorway when other people are around."

"It's the doorway to the _kitchen_ , dude."

"You'll just have to limit your snacking, then, won't you, Dean?" And with that he finished up and left the area, back to whatever else Christmas decorating they were doing.

"They" because Castiel was really getting into the holiday spirit. At first, he'd resisted it, saying that it was pointless to celebrate the life of a dead, ordinary human, because apparently the story of Jesus was all horseshit. Not to mention, Castiel felt very open about sharing everything that the tradition had stolen from the Pagans, including the date and the tree.

After a while, though, he appreciated what the holiday meant to people, and he had started shopping for the ugliest Christmas sweaters at their local thrift shop, and finding discount, broken decorations. Soon enough, he'd gotten Sam in the spirit as well, and they had gone on a rampage, decorating the bunker with all the left-over and discarded decorations that they could find. It was fitting enough, he figured, for their rag-tag little family.

And, maybe, just maybe, Dean actually liked it. Just a little.

By the time that it was a week before Christmas, Castiel had finished his decorating, and the bunker was filled with all sorts of things, including the scraggliest little tree that they could find (because it was cheaper). There were broken, hideous, and even handmade ornaments hanging from the branches, some looking like they were about the fall off due to their own weight. It was quite easily the ugliest Christmas tree that Dean had ever seen, but Castiel was proud of himself and they all pretended like it was the greatest thing that they'd ever seen. For his sake.

Now that the decorating was over, however, Castiel was asking for rides every other day. He'd moved on to searching out the perfect gifts for everyone. Normally, Dean would have complained, but given that Castiel was newly human and hurt, he figured he didn't have a reason to. Cas was just looking for something to make himself feel better, and it was Dean's mission to do anything to make him feel like he fit in as a human. It was the least that he could do after everything Castiel had sacrificed for him.

He settled down onto his bed, closing his bedroom door before pulling out a book and finding where he had left off. Dean couldn't let his geek brother know that he read, he did have a reputation to uphold. Someone had to be a man around here.

"Hello, Dean. What are you reading?" Dean jumped. He was just getting back into the book, and he turned around to stare at Castiel, futilely trying to hide the book from his gaze. Castiel's head just did that cute - not cute - tilt to the side and Dean sighed.

"What do you want, Cas?" He said, trying to keep the rough edge of annoyance out of his voice.

"I need you to drive me to the store." Castiel said.

"Again, man? How many times have you been this week?"

"There are only four more days until Christmas, and I still need to find one more thing."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Did you want me to help?"

"No, Dean. A ride would be sufficient help, thank you," He said in reply. After Dean got around to looking, he could see that Castiel had his coat already on, the thrifted one that was a little too big and made Castiel look like he was drowning in fabric. It was thrown over one of his ugly sweaters, one with snowflakes all over the front and a hint of glitter. His disheveled appearance was most definitely not cute.

Dean sighed and grabbed his jacket and keys, shoving his feet into his boots.

"Come on, then. Let's go." he said, gesturing towards the door. Castiel gathered himself up and they left the bunker, walking side by side to the Impala.

Cas waved as Dean dropped him off, saying that it would probably take him a while and that Dean could go back home. He would call when he was ready to be picked up again. Dean wondered on the drive home about what he could possibly be looking for in all the stores that he went to, and with such a low budget. It couldn't really be anything as 'perfect' as Castiel wanted.

They'd encountered just the smallest of problems when Castiel had beome human; he refused to use money off of fraudulent credit cards, at least right now. Dean hated to think that way, but it was only a matter of time before he realized that since hunting wasn't quite a paying gig and humans couldn't live easily without money, they had very little choice other than to use them.

He read undisturbed for a few hours until his phone went off. Dean tried to ignore the small shiver that went up his spine at the sound of Castiel's voice, even when tinny over the phone. He failed, but only just. It really didn't mean anything, he told himself.

"Yeah, Cas. I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said, pulling his shoes on one by one as he he pressed the phone between his shoulder and his ear, listening to Castiel speak. "Okay, Cas. I won't look. I promise." Dean took the phone and hung up, shoving it in his pocket and heading out to the Impala.

He drove over and picked Cas up, averting his eyes when Cas lugged his bags into the backseat of the Impala, warning Dean not to look, again, before clambering into the front seat. Castiel still got a little grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth when he got to sit in the front seat, and it was completely not adorable.

Dean ran a hand through his hair and shifted in his seat, and they were driving again.

"So what'dya get?" Dean asked, looking over at Cas before turning his eyes back on the road.

"Dean," Castiel said. "If you are not allowed to look, what makes you think that I would tell you what I bought?" Dean shrugged; he had a fair enough point.

Castiel fell into silence and they didn't speak for the rest of the drive, although it wasn't uncomfortable. It was just their usual, the kind that happened while they were alone together. That worked well enough for for Dean; he didn't like forced conversation that he wasn't getting anything out of, and Castiel didn't understand small talk. And after so long together, they didn't exactly need words to make the space between them meaningful. It was already heavy enough with things unspoken.

Castiel made Dean look away as he carried his semi-translucent shopping bags into the bunker, and Dean followed after he was sure that Castiel would have been able to put the bags away in that time. He didn't see Castiel for the rest of the day, although often heard him rusting around in the house.

The rest of the week went without Castiel asking to go to the store, and Dean finished his book. No one got caught together under the mistletoe, and Dean considered that a blessing. Their little family didn't need any kisses to complicate things or make anything awkward. They weren't finding any hunts in the area lately, so for the most part they just stayed back and relaxed around the bunker for the remaining days.

Dean did try to find some things to give as gifts, but in all honesty, he wasn't the best at it. Maybe it was because he hadn't had enough practice or because he didn't pay enough attention to what other people liked. Whatever the reason, he was left feeling more than a little apprehensive about what he had wrapped up in the back of his closet, ready to place under the tree come Christmas Eve.

Which did come, as a matter of fact, and quickly as well.

Dean was surprised to see that everyone had something to put under their little disaster of a tree, although he really shouldn't have been. Sam always wanted an actual Christmas, and Kevin hadn't been raised the way that they had. He was used to celebrating it. Maybe what he was surprised at was himself, going along with a holiday that had almost never brought him good memories. As he looked at his family, he hoped that he would finally have a reason to like the holiday.

They hung out together, a little bunker family, by the tree, drinking eggnog and talking quietly until both Kevin and Sam decided that it was time for them to go to bed. Dean and Castiel were left sitting in the softly glowing light of the tree, silent but not awkward, just staring at the tree. Dean figured he had to be turning into a girl.

Castiel turned to him. "I am going into the kitchen to get something to drink."

Dean nodded and watched him walk away a little before he got up and followed. He figured he should probably get something to drink as well, although his would more likely be along the lines of something alcoholic, and he might as well do it now.

Castiel was already at the sink filling up a glass with water when he walked in and pulled a beer out of the fridge. Leaning against the counter, he asked Cas, "What got you so excited about Christmas, anyway?" Dean pulled out the bottle opener, popping the lid and taking a long first sip. The familiar taste of crappy beer soothed him and took the slight edge off of him, even when his surroundings were so new to him. He wasn't used to this holiday, to this home, to having a new human next to him, emanating warmth and looking at him like he was a hero.

When Castiel looked at him with those big, blue eyes, and he almost looked like an innocent puppy, even though Dean knew better. He also knew better than to let the idea of Castiel being cute flit behind his mind. Castiel swallowed visibly, looking at Dean with a slight tilt to his head.

"I enjoy the thought behind it. It is..." he trailed off as though he was looking for words to describe it. "It is a holiday that I think encompasses everything you have taught me that is good in humanity. And I wanted to repay the both of you for everything you have done, Kevin as well."

"What do you mean, man?" Dean said, shaking his head. "I haven't really done much for you but make you Fall and take your home and family away from you." He gestured up towards where he supposed Heaven would be. He felt quite guilty about everything that had happened to Castiel because of him: leaving his only family, his only home, dying again and again, Falling.

"You gave me a home, Dean." Castiel said, although he didn't talk any further than that. The way that he said the words made Dean wonder if he meant the bunker or something else. "You gave me a family, and you showed me that my siblings were wrong. There is good in humanity." And he was looking at Dean with such a tenderness that he had to look away. It was too much for him to think about so late at night, so he didn't answer, just took a long sip and looked away.

They stood there for a while in silence, although this silence was a bit different. It was heavy with unspoken words and feelings. The things that Castiel had said had such a weight that they were impossible to ignore now, and Dean was left thinking some things that were a little too heavy and deep for the late hour.

He finished up his beer and Castiel sipped the last of his water. For a moment, they just stood there, looking at each other. Neither of them seemed sure what to do then. Dean decided that he was done being a chick for the day.

"Hey, man." he said, tossing the bottle. "I'm going to bed." He took a few strides towards and door and Castiel placed his glass gently into the sink and followed after him.

"I think that is an excellent idea," he said, and followed Dean out of the kitchen.

They passed under the doorway together, and Dean looked up briefly, looking at the mistletoe and wondered if he should mention it or not. He figured that Castiel wouldn't understand the tradition and tried to keep walking when Cas' hand on his upper arm stopped him.

"Dean," he said, almost a whisper, and then he was pressing their lips together. Castiel's lips were soft but slightly dry and chapped, but it was nice the way that they scraped against his own lips, the way that his slight stubble scraped against his skin. Castiel pressed further like he was hungry, pressed Dean's mouth open with his tongue, and led his tongue inside. He was still unnervingly gentle, like Castiel was still an angel and afraid of breaking his dear hunter.

Castiel's hands came to wrap in Dean's short hair, and Dean's own hand went up to cup Castiel's cheek, feeling short hair tickling the palm of his hand. He would have liked to say that it was unconscious, but he knew what he was doing, even as he stroked his thumb across Castiel's borrowed cheekbone. His skin was smooth but cold on the surface, and Dean could feel the heat bubbling just below, signifying that he wasn't an angel anymore.

They parted for air, and Dean leaned over to touch their foreheads together before Castiel shifted away. Dean worried for a moment that he'd done something wrong, but Cas just pointed up and said, "We're still underneath the mistletoe."

His hand was a steady, warm pressure against the back of Dean's neck as he pulled him down for another kiss, shifting his own body back so that they would be out of the way of the door and the mistletoe. Castiel was a lot less explorative this time, and a little more like a dying man who'd just come across his magic cure. He kissed Dean desperately, like he might leave him at any moment, and buried his hands so far into Dean's clothing that he wasn't sure that Cas would be able to disentangle it.

It was funny, Dean thought, because Castiel was always the one leaving before now. He was clutching back just as fiercely, wondering how this could be happening in the first place. Castiel gave him a smaller peck to the lips as he pulled away, removing himself from Dean.

"Goodnight, Dean."

"Night, Cas," he said, smiling to himself in a daze as he watched Castiel walk away.

The next morning he woke up to Castiel shaking him like a child eager to see what was brought by Santa. But Castiel didn't believe in Santa, and he seemed more excited to see how people reacted to his gifts, rather than excited for the other way around.

"Dean," he said. His touch was gentle despite the fact that he was shaking Dean, almost like he was afraid to break Dean's shoulders. It only brought back memories from the night before, reminded him of the achingly gentle touch of Castiel as he pressed his tongue inside of Dean's mouth.

Dean shoved the blankets off to the side, blearily looking up at Castiel.

"I'll be out in a few, Cas." Castiel nodded at him and turned to leave, giving Dean the space he needed to change out of his boxers and into some real clothing so that he would be presentable for his makeshift family.

He pulled his pants on quickly, shirt following, and messed with his hair a little in the mirror. That was the best he was going to get, he decided, and stepped outside of his room to find himself the last person to get out of bed. The rest of his family was all gathered around the tree and its small stockpile of presents. Castiel was wearing, of all things, a Santa hat pulled over his dark mess of hair, and standing like he was there to relegate all of the presents. Hell, he probably was there for just that reason, if Dean thought about it a little harder.

Dean settled himself down into the couch and Castiel smiled at him, announcing to the room that it was time for them to open their gifts. He picked out one for each person and gave them out, instructing everyone to open theirs all at once.

They did so, paper going everywhere and bows even being stuck on Kevin's head. Dean looked down at the crazily patterned socks that he'd unwrapped, chuckling to himself.

"Thanks, Kevin."

They went through the next round of presents and were now on the last. Mostly, they didn't have a lot of money, so the presents weren't all that fantastic, but it still didn't matter. The hunting knife that his brother had gotten him still had some heft in his hand and it was nice enough for his tastes.

But given that this was his third gift, he knew that the present in his hands was from Castiel, and he was nervous about that fact. It was small, easily fitting in the palm of his hand and he wasn't sure what could be inside of it. The wrapping paper felt thin, and featured small dancing reindeer. Dean wasn't sure why the prospect of getting a gift from Castiel put him so on edge.

His brain supplied him with one answer, one that was full of kissing and the fear of where that would lead them, the fear of himself and his ability to ruin things, but he shook the thought away and tore into his own gift, noticing that Castiel was watching everyone else and not opening Dean's present to him.

All for the better, Dean thought. He knew that his gift wasn't the best that it could have been. It sat in a little red bag with some green tissue paper on the inside, but Castiel didn't seem as interested in it as the smaller package that Dean held in his hands.

He ripped it open, looking inside at a small necklace. Dean pulled it out of the package, holding it up in front of the light. It was a small bottle with a cork in it. It was attached to a leather strap and filled with something blue that appeared to glow as he held it against the light. It almost looked like a bottle of Grace.

Dean looked over at Castiel curiously, bringing his arm down and holding the necklace in one cupped hand. Castiel, for once, seemed to understand his confusion, or at least knew that he would be confused in the first place, and opened his mouth to explain.

"It is symbolic, Dean. Even though my Grace was incinerated in the spell, if we found it and were able to restore it, I would not. I would have given it to you for keeping, because I trust you and I have chosen this life now, as a human. I understand that the gift is not a lot--"

His words were cut off by the kiss that Dean decided to press to his lips, even while they were still in front of the rest of their little family. For just that reason, they kept this one soft and innocent, just a press of lips together in a sincere explanation of feelings. Dean wasn't sure what this thing was in between them, but he sure was glad that they had finally done something about it, even if it had taken as long as it had.

They parted, looking at each other so tenderly that Dean _knew_ he was turning into a girl. When he managed to look at the rest of his family, neither Kevin nor Sam was looking at them, although he saw a small smile on Sam's lips.

"Relax, guys," he said, rolling his eyes and settling back into his own spot. "We're not going to have sex in front of you or anything."

The others relaxed and looked back, Kevin a little more surprised than Sam seemed to be. Dean really hadn't thought it out, but if he had, he knew that he wouldn't have expected this kind of a reaction. Maybe a bit more judging from Sam, if he were being honest with himself. But Sam seemed to be happy about it.

"So, how long have you two...?" Sam asked, looking between them.

"Dean and I have been more romantically inclined since last night, Sam." Castiel said, sounding as if they had had a passionate night of lovemaking.

"Just let it go for now, Sammy," Dean said, his voice still light and cheerful . He just wanted to give himself and Cas more time to work it out without Sam's interference. "Cas..." He looked down at the bag still sitting on the floor in front of Castiel. When Dean looked at him, he noticed that his hat was a little more sideways than it had been before. Had he done that?

Castiel understood what he was trying to communicate for once and began to pull at the paper, peering down into the bag. There were two things inside, and Dean really hoped that he managed to get to the second one, feeling regret about the first thing that he'd gotten already. He knew better than that, and he was really hoping that Castiel was lighthearted enough about it to get the joke.

The fallen angel pulled out a headband with a halo attached to it and just stared for a few moments, before looking back up at Dean with a slight wetness to his eyes.

"Dean..." he said, voice barely above a whisper. And then he was taking off, the stupid headband forgotten behind him as he barrelled his way into another room of the bunker, likely his own. Dean stared after him for a moment, unsure of what to do. He didn't know if he should chase after him or give him some time to his own.

Fuck, Dean thought. He'd really messed this thing up already. This was precisely why he knew he wasn't good enough for Castiel. How did he not realize that he wasn't good enough for this? How could he have entertained the thought of them together for even a moment? Sam was giving him a look and Dean scooped up the bag and the headband, throwing it in the trash on his way to go comfort Castiel. If he could, that was.

He practically sprinted down the hall, skidding to a halt in front of Castiel's door.

"Cas?" he asked, knocking on the door lightly. "Cas, are you in there?" He tested the door and found it unlocked, looking inside and seeing Castiel on the bed inside, curled up into a ball. He didn't look up as Dean entered the room, but seemed to curl up tighter.

"Go away," Dean heard him mutter, and the way that his voice cracked was something that he was never going to be able to forgive himself for. Dean couldn't be trusted around fragile things without breaking them. Dean stepped closer, pulled the other item out of the bag and grabbed Castiel's hand, setting it in his palm.

"This was your real gift. That was a--it was a joke. I should have realized." Castiel didn't react, and Dean knew that he had fucked up something great, yet again. He knew that he had ruined this one before it even started, just by being the insensitive jackass that he was. "Cas. Cas." He took a step back, looking at his friend-maybe-more a little. It seemed that he wasn't going to listen to Dean.

He turned away, walking slowly to the door, hoping in some way that Castiel would stop this and talk to him, _forgive him._ God knew that he didn't deserve it, but Castiel had forgiven him for worse things before. Maybe this time was the breaking point, perhaps Castiel was done with Dean being a fuckup. He buried his head in his hands, sighing deeply as he thought about it.

Fuck. _Fuck._ He'd ruined their holiday with one stupid gag gift. He'd ruined their relationship in one fatal blow, and he'd fucked up again. He should have realized, he should have thought about it. Regret was seeping into him, filling all of the empty space inside of him. It was intense, the amount of feelings that were all coming to a crescendo. They felt as though they might kill him.

"Dean?" Castiel asked from behind him, and he turned around as quickly as he could. Castiel was sitting on the bed, upright, looking down at the gift in his hand. His eyes were a little puffy and Dean felt a pang of guilt at that, but Castiel looked less sad now and more confused.

He made a gesture towards Castiel with his hands. "You're one of us now. I figured I would give you a knife as your first non-angelic weapon. You're a hunter with us now, man." He cringed at his own words, how hollow they sounded to Castiel's own sentiments and ideas, how stupid that knife was. He knew that he didn't deserve an angel, even a Fallen one.

But Castiel seemed to be in awe, his mouth slightly ajar like he'd realized something that Dean hadn't. He looked at the knife like it was a gift from God himself, and then set it aside and crossed the room in a few strides, placing his hand gently on Dean's cheek and looking him in the eye with that same, _cute_ puppy dog head tilt.

"You love me."

That was all he said, and so simply, and with such clarity that it sounded like he knew it was as true as the fact that his eyes were blue. But then again, Castiel would probably have some unintentional smart ass comment about that, too. Dean swallowed, unable to deny the comment as much as he wanted to.

"I have loved you since the moment I saw your soul in Hell. Even through all of the damage, you still shone so bright, so pure, that I understood you were someone special." His fingers ran down the length of Dean's face to his neck, resting it on his shoulder. "I worked so hard to make sure that you were put back together correctly, but I may have taken a few liberties." The way that Castiel was looking at him was all raw emotion laid out raw and terrifying.

He traced a hand down Dean's arm, looking at his own work reverently. "I fixed your bones. You would have had arthritis early on, but not anymore. There was a small flaw in your heart that could have given out at any moment, but it is no longer there." He pulled his hand away and stared at it. Dean felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes but he didn't know what to do about it, and he wasn't sure why they were there in the first place. It wasn't as though he was much of a crier anyway. "Every time I think about how I can no longer heal you in such a manner, I can't stand it. I long to see you happy and healthy, and I could have done part of that. Now I am practically nothing, and I knew that you would eventually be bored of me as a human. But right now, you still love me."

Castiel moved some of his hair out of his eyes, and Dean watched him carefully, heart clenching in his chest uncomfortably. But didn't it always when he looked at Cas? "I do not know how long it will last, how this will change me. But for now, Dean. I want you, too. I love you. I love you. I love you."

His voice was desperate there at the end of it, a hysterical edge to the repeated confession. Castiel himself looked like he was about to being crying again.

Dean didn't know he could be that happy. Castiel knew that he wasn't ready to say the words yet, and he didn't seem to care if Dean did or didn't, because he was kissing the air out of him. They kept colliding, over and over, in a small flurry of lips and tongue.

Dean was never a big fan of tradition. But he hoped that this became one of their own, because Christmas was starting to look a lot brighter.


End file.
